


Prompt #035 Pretend

by kurgaya



Series: Divine Footsteps [30]
Category: Bleach
Genre: M/M, Translation Available, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:49:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/pseuds/kurgaya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was an idiot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prompt #035 Pretend

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Зарисовка #035 Притворяться](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7256842) by [a_m](https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_m/pseuds/a_m)



**Frigidity**

" _You're going to be late for your lecture_ ," droned Tōshirō's voice down the phone, a rich, mellow sigh of amusement.

"Yeah well," said Ichigo, gangly stepping over his pile of textbooks, narrowly avoiding the edge of his desk, and smacking a hand against the light switch. A fleeting glance in the mirror reflected his dishevelled state, and the young human cursed, spying his keys on the other side of the room. "Whose fault is that?"

" _Surely not mine_ ," soothed the captain, though there was a lace of regret to his voice in contradiction. " _You'd probably still be in bed if I hadn't called you_."

That much was true, Ichigo couldn't deny. He'd been out drinking with some of his dorm mates the night before and had only returned during the early hours of the morning. The security guards hadn't been best pleased at their appearance, but Ichigo knew the reason the confrontation had scarcely missed an all-out war was because he and his friends hadn't actually been making a racket. Students who paraded across campus singing God-awful pop songs at three o'clock in the morning and thought they were invincible soon had difficulty getting back into their dorms.

It had been his phone blasting out the BBC Sherlock theme tune that had ripped Ichigo from his bed that morning. Luckily he only had an afternoon lecture on Fridays, but at the current rate he was traipsing around his room it was likely he was going to miss it. While Tōshirō's wakeup call had effectively gotten Ichigo out of bed, they'd ended up chatting for the best part of an hour when the Tenth Division captain had really only rung to let his partner know that he'd be visiting that evening. The call should have taken five minutes, but Ichigo suppose that was what you got for being in love.

"Yeah, alright," he said lightly, smiling. He shut the door and stuffed his keys into his jacket pocket, swapping the phone between his hands as he bolted down the stairs. "Can't blame a guy for not wanting to study."

" _And here I thought you'd chosen Medicine because you liked it_."

Oh he did. He loved it. But the work was a nightmare and he frequently asked himself if it was really worth getting up for in the morning. Knowing that he was helping people got him through the day though – that and having Tōshirō complain about his officers to him down the phone. They'd been dating for approximately two years now; at eighteen Ichigo had realised he'd rather fantasise about men and at twenty one he'd plucked up the courage to ask Tōshirō out for dinner. It hadn't come completely out of the blue – Tōshirō had been one of the few people Ichigo had been in regular contact with since the Winter War. For the first six months or so Soul Society had kept their distance (a shinigami or two still made an appearance occasionally, almost in reassurance) to allow Ichigo and his friends time to settle back into their human lives. Rukia, Renji, and even some of the captain then began to visit every so often, some for no longer than ten minutes, others for dinner or an afternoon out.

Ichigo wasn't entirely sure how Tōshirō developed into the picture of his life's new normality – they had been _kind of_ friends at the time, but the captain probably wouldn't have used such a word. All he could remember was that suddenly Tōshirō was visiting at least once every two months and they were sending messages back and forth through various other people in the intervals between. Nobody had asked what was going on, but Ichigo did get a surprise stay from Rangiku at one point.

"Thank you," she had said, smiling and fumbling in a way that suggested she wanted to hug him. "Whatever it is you're doing, thank you. He's so much happier now."

He'd asked Tōshirō out for dinner two weeks later.

"It's not always fun though," he argued down the phone, thinking of his assignments and dissertation. He sprinted across the university grounds and then out into the street, his bag flapping against his leg. "Kuronami-sensei's an asshole."

Tōshirō hummed. Ichigo wondered where he was – at his desk? Walking around in the gardens? " _Yes, you do keep reminding me of that. Has he not taken to your charm yet? Heaven forbid somebody actually not bat their eyelids at you_."

"Piss off."

The captain laughed. " _Call me back when you're done with your lecture. I've got to go chase down my seventh seat. Apparently he hasn't learned the difference between Tenth and Eighth Division paperwork – not that I'm certain how he got a hold of Kyoraku's work in the first place_ , _but since we're the Intelligence Division I suppose I'll have to give him some credit._ "

Ichigo rounded the corner for the Medicine department and let out a sigh of relief at the sight of his classmates still hanging around outside. One of them waved as he approached, and the substitute squashed down a spark of disappointment that he wasn't running around Seireitei like he had as a teenager. "Have fun with that."

" _Oh I won't_."

There was no 'I love you' before they cut the call. But they were alright with that.

Ichigo stuffed his phone into his pocket and slipped into his classmates' circle. The two guys he had been out drinking with the night before looked just as shattered as he probably did, and they shared a knowing laugh at Ichigo's tardiness.

"We were wondering when you'd get here," one of them said, blatantly checking his watch. The other winked at him, and Ichigo flushed. It was common knowledge that he was in a 'long distance relationship' (and really, it couldn't any further), and while none of his friends had ever met Tōshirō they'd probably heard enough about him to piece him together fairly accurately. Minus the shinigami business of course, but Ichigo wasn't certain how he'd ever bring that up.

Since he still had his powers he did do his duties occasionally, but with his human life being his priority Soul Society had cut his work down drastically. The main reason now for entering his shinigami body was just to keep in practice – and Zangetsu and his hollow enjoyed it anyway.

"Come on, we're going down to the labs."

"What do you mean we're going down to the labs?" Ichigo asked, following them past the lecture hall and down the street. "I thought we had Kuronami-sensei?"

They fixed him with varying degrees of frowns.

"Don't you check your emails – ?"

"– Change of plans today –"

"– Doing lab work instead –"

"– Dunno why – what was it the email said – ?"

Ichigo groaned loudly and ran a hand through his hair. That was just his luck. Well, on the positive he didn't have to spend his afternoon with the teacher from Hell. On the downside he was probably going to get grilled for turning up to lab work unprepared.

"Ah come on," said Ayami, patting him on the shoulder. "It won't be that bad. You're seeing Tōshirō later aren't you? He'll make you feel better."

Cackling laughter followed that comment. Ichigo rolled his eyes and shoved his snickering friends, effectively putting an end to their inappropriate (and strictly disturbing) impressions of what he and Tōshirō might get up to in their free time.

"Piss off you lot," he grumbled, not really meaning it. "Next time I see Yuzu I won't bring back any cookies for you."

That shut them up. They managed to stay off his back for most of the next two hours (Ichigo had luckily succeeded in pairing up with the geeky, timid girl in their class who had given him the resolve to get his head down and not break anything). His friends still shot him cheeky smiles across the room whenever their teacher turned away, but for the most part the laboratory was quiet with the studious determination of the class.

This atmosphere didn't last forever however. It was just as Ichigo was carefully prodding an agar dish and his lab partner was jotting down the procedures of their experiment that the room shook with an almighty tremor. The windows rattled and the lights flickered; everybody in the room froze for half a beat, and then there was a flurry of movement to protect the expensive glass equipment they were using.

"I wonder what that was," mused Ayami from across the room, adjusting the safety goggles on her freckled face.

"Earthquake?" somebody else suggested. Ichigo frowned – it hadn't felt like an earthquake, and he was about to point this out when the whole building trembled again. This time the lights blew out, one of the windows smashed, and four trays of flasks tipped onto the floor: having grabbed his lab partner and thrown them to the ground, Ichigo was dimly aware of somebody screaming and the bang of the doors thundering open. The fire alarms started to wail out in the corridor – any second now the sprinklers would turn on and douse the room, but by that point Ichigo had already swapped places with Kon, the mod soul blinking up from the floor in a daze.

"Get out, follow everyone else," he ordered, nudging his body with a toe to evacuate with the rest of his class. In Kon's pocket Ichigo's mobile began to buzz – a very late warning from Soul Society most likely.

The mod soul nodded and bolted through the water, smoke, and glass, leaving the substitute to shunpo out of the broken window to where a Hollow was waiting, sniffing the side of the building like an over-enthusiastic dog. There was a zanpakuto at its side, and grimly reminded of Grand Fisher, Ichigo charged at it, drawing Zangetsu from his back.

"Oi!" he yelled, hoping to draw its attention away from the other students. "Over here you big –"

He tucked his knees to his chest and jumped – the Hollow, surprisingly quick for its size, brushed underneath his feet and skidded across the pavement. Landing on the roof and twisting in one fluid motion, Ichigo launched a Getsuga Tensho and then shunpoed again, easily dodging the Hollow's second attack. It didn't appear to have much intelligence, judging by the savage gleam in its eyes, and Ichigo rolled his shoulder lazily, taunting it. Knowing that wishing for more challenging opponents was just asking for trouble, the student resolved not to play around for too long – the 'come here' motion he made was far too tempting to pass up however, and the Hollow roared in anger.

"Yeah, yeah, you stupid thing," he laughed, catapulting himself towards the Hollow and then bouncing off of its mask in jest. "You really shouldn't have blown up my work you know, do you know how long it's going to take me to do it all again?"

Zangetsu clipped the edge of the Hollow's bone white mask and then drove straight through one of the meaty black arms and out the other side. The creature swiped at him, claws like shark teeth and a thousand knives, yet Ichigo just shunpoed out of the way, staggering back towards the road. He cursed as he pulled his uniform out of the puddle he'd just stepped in; he gave it a feeble shake and muttered about 'socks', levelling his zanpakuto towards the Hollow.

It stared back at him, mustard yellow eyes narrowed. Deciding to finish the fight, Ichigo quirked a smile and swung Zangetsu back, ready to strike. A flash of icy blue and black and a chink of metal distracted him, like midnight winter and the diamond scales of a dragon. Mind immediately questioning the presence of the Tenth Division captain (Ichigo was almost certain Tōshirō wouldn't be arriving till later), he turned towards his oncoming boyfriend with a puzzled smile and was promptly struck by a two tonne slab of ice and flung through the nearest window.

Ichigo retched, blood gargling up his throat. He had landed in the middle of a lecture theatre, and both his back and ankle hissed at him as he tried to heave himself up from between the desks. Another spray of ice shot in through the broken window, and Ichigo dropped behind a chair to avoid the razor sharp blades, scrabbling around for his zanpakuto.

His heart hammered and he spat out blood. Back-flipping out of the path of a third column of ice, he glanced around for the Hollow he had been fighting. It was nowhere to be seen and he cursed, wondering manically if Tōshirō had dispatched it and was now more focused on taking _him_ out.

"Jesus fuck!" he roared, battling his way through the lecture theatre. Wishing he was more equipped for running on an ice rink, Ichigo tried his best to fend off the constant ice daggers and bricks. The room was slowly freezing to sub-zero levels, snow trickling down from a non-existent storm cloud, and if Ichigo hadn't been so concerned about turning into a block of ice in the middle of his university, he probably would have spared a thought for the approaching reiatsu, sharp, deadly, and raging with anger.

Instead, he skidded behind a desk and fired off a kido to (hopefully) divert his enemy. The effort was futile and he hardly registered the sheer _frigidity_ of the icicle hand clamping around his arm before he was slammed through the wooden floorboards. Groaning, Ichigo blinked through the black spots dotted in front of his eyes to spy the Hollow from before. He crossed his arms over his chest and neck to protect himself even as the ice started to spread over his legs, keeping him trapped on his back and exposed. It was a strange sensation and he was mostly numb to it, but in his last moments of consciousness Ichigo was fully aware of the lack of Tōshirō's reiatsu weaved between the ice, and he would have smiled in relief if the Hollow hadn't prompted exploded.

Bone and flesh and water blasted everywhere. Untouched by it all stood Tōshirō, zanpakuto drawn, haori crisp and perfect, and mouth set in a deep, furious line. His teal eyes were blazing – he looked paler than normal, Ichigo noted vaguely, his ghostly skin contrasted against the splatter of blood splayed across his nose and cheeks. The captain glanced down at him and frowned even more, and Ichigo would have squeaked if he'd had the energy.

"Ain't my fault," the substitute mumbled, probably sounding just as much of a fool as he looked. Here he was, arse kicked and head pounding, all because he'd mistaken his enemy for his boyfriend.

He was an _idiot_.

Hyorinmaru was sheathed. "No," said Tōshirō, pinching the bridge of his nose as knelt next to Ichigo. His reiatsu flickered dangerously, a panther waiting to kill. "It's not. Go to sleep, I'll patch you up."

That sounded like a good idea, Ichigo thought, letting his eyelids drop.

Waking up next to Tōshirō sounded even better.


End file.
